The New Girl
by charmin-karmin
Summary: Gilbert Beilschmidt has lived a bitter life up to the point of his latter high school career, until he catches a glimpse at the new girl, Annaliese Edelstein and decides that she's the only one for him. Rated M for later chapters.


**A/N: Well, after a nine month hiatus, I'm back and ready to write like never before! I've got some huge plans with this shiny new fic and an old one, New Girl. I am excited to be writing and I'd appreciate feedback on both! Each chapter starts with a journel entry by Gilbert, so expect some changes in tenses. This first chapter is basically just an introduction in the daily life of Gilbert and will be the shortest compared to those to come. Thank you for reading and enjoy!**

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><p><em><strong>NO. 1<strong>_

Love is a weird thing. I didn't really know what it felt like before, but with all that's gone down in the last few weeks, I think I got a good grip on it now. It's fuckin' aggravating, to say the least. It gets in your head and fucks your whole brain up. You don't think clearly. The other person just kinda works their way into your head all the time, but you don't complain about it. I mean, the thought of them just makes you happy and shit, so you don't care that you have this huge-ass buildup of emotion inside. It's fucked up.

It's different than lust, though. Like, if you see a chick you just wanna fuck, you think of their _ass_ets a lot. And their boobs. But with love, it's so different. You just have this picture in your brain of their face and just thinking about it makes you feel like a complete idiot. You find yourself wondering what they do in their freetime a lot. What are their cute little quirks? Do they dance around in the morning to music and sing into hairbrushes? Do they sing on the top of their lungs when no one's looking when their favorite song is on? All important questions.

I hear people all the time debating if love at first sight exists. I used to be the ignorant bitch who thought that girls were only good for sex and that that bullshit didn't exist. But guys, let me tell ya something. It's real. And you should believe me because I was the biggest non-believer until recently. I met the most wonderful girl on the planet, but I was an asshole and lost her for good.

Love really is weird. You can feel like you're on the highest high one moment, and then crash into the deepest depths of depression the next. You feel like you need them in your life. You want to marry them and hold them while they fall asleep on your honeymoon, feeling their breathing body against their own. You wanna stroke their hair and lull them to sleep, and when they're finally in deep slumber, give them the softest of kisses on their foreheads. They'll never know that you did it, but you do and you'll smile with a sense of cleverness.

All that is what I've wanted in the last few weeks. I sound like an old man, though. I mean, I'm an eighteen-year-old guy. I shouldn't even be thinking this into my love life, but she really changed me. She changed me for the better. I changed for her. I stopped doing shit that could hurt me and that would worry her, which is really good and all, but now that she's gone, I feel like I just did it all for nothing.

Enough about this romantic bullshit. I'm starting to sound like a fucking homosexual. I'd tell you about myself but, to be honest, there's not a lot to know. I'm on the football team. Or at least I was at _this_ point. I was left offensive tackle (and I don't know if you're understanding what that means, just know that I'm super important but get exactly zero glory for being on the team). Other than that, I wasn't involved in any other sports or clubs. I was a slacker.

Okay, so, I'm not a great kid. It was assumed that I was gonna drop out and that my failure was a given. I see where they got that from. I didn't do shit. Yeah, that's right. I was that asshole that sits in the back of the room, screamin' shit at the poor teacher. Don't you start thinking I'm just this heartless douchebag. I'm just kinda stupid. I tried paying attention in class, I just don't understand _shit_. So about halfway through my junior year, I stopped trying. Or more accurately, stopped caring. My family didn't care either, though. They'd given up on me years ago and focused on my fucking brother. He's a genius, top of his class, actually. And then there's me.

Gilbert _fucking_ Beilschmidt.

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><p><em>Vrrrr... Vrrrrr...<em>

The alarm clock. Fucking great. Nothing said "Let's go to the hell-hole we call school!" like that dreadful noise he was forced to wake up to every morning. He blinked his eyes open and glared menacingly at the damned piece of metal.

_7:00_

He sighed as thoughts began to flow through his mind. Less than 60 minutes before school started. It took him about 9 minutes to eat, 3 to get dressed, 4 to get past his dad, 5 to get his car started, and 17 to get to school. 38 minutes. He smiled a bit at his quick math abilities. That left him two times to hit snooze, if his brother would allow him. The smile fled his face faster than it arrived. His brother would never let him sleep in. He groaned and flopped back down onto the pillows. Why was it that Ludwig had to get to school early on _Monday_ mornings?

Gilbert begrudgingly slammed his hand down onto the clock on his bedside table, the door to his room flying open to reveal a large blonde man. "Gilbert!" came his loud, gruff voice, a very apparent German accent in his tone. "Get the hell up or we're going to be late!"

"Calm the fuck down," Gilbert growled under his breath. "Look, Ludwig. If you wanna get to school early like the nerd that you are, you're gonna have to find another ride to school or man up and get your license."

Ludwig rolled his eyes, stepping into the room and towering over his older brother's bed. "What the point of having two licenses with one car?" he grumbled bitterly. "Why don't you think a little before you talk next time." With a stern glare, he turned around and stomped out of the room, leaving an angry tension in a trail behind him.

Gilbert groaned, throwing his legs over the side of his bed and sitting up. He rubbed his face and began out of his room, mumbling his unpleasant thoughts to himself under his breath. He threw open the door to the bathroom to find an even younger brother standing there. Without a word, he grabbed the younger's shoulder and nearly threw him out of the room, slamming the door after him. There was a bout of angered yelling from outside, but this didn't bother him in the slightest. He just made his way over to the mirror above the sink and sighed. Gilbert huffed, crossing his arms at what he saw. It was what he was always forced to look at.

_Himself._

He was of full German blood, so his skin was already a rather white hue, but the light shade that he was was far beyond that of his brothers. That and his hair was more blonde that it wouldn't even register as blonde anymore. He sighed and ran his hand slowly through the nearly white hair on his head, looking into the pale red eyes that he hated so much. He felt as if he was pinned at birth as weak. Insignificant. Unwanted. Why was he forced to look like this? He didn't ask for this, and that was the worst part of it all. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting backwards from ten in his head.

_Easy there, Gil. You don't wanna have another episode, do you?_

The pounding on the door made him jump from his thoughts. "Gilbert!" came the whining voice of the boy outside. "What the heck is wrong with you!"

A slight pang of guilt made Gilbert sigh. He slumped over to the door and opened it, revealing his little brother standing just outside the doorway. "Sorry, Alex," he muttered quietly, taking a moment to ruffle up the younger's hair. "Ludwig was just bein' an asshole."

Alexander shrugged innocently, his face bright with a youthful glow. "Eh, it's understandable," he said casually. "Ludwig needs to calm down."

"Well wadya gonna do," Gilbert muttered bitterly. "He's a stuck up asshole and that sure as hell ain't gonna change."

"True," Alex mumbled with a nod of agreement.

"So, are you gonna be ready for school soon?" he asked, letting out an irritated sigh, beginning down the hall past Alexander, who nodded.

"Ja. Just tell me when you wanna go," Alex chirped happily, smiling contently as he made his way back into the bathroom.

Gilbert sighed and ran his hand through his snow white hair. Why was it that Alex always made him feel so much better? Stupid kid. If only Ludwig was as laid back as the both of them. It would really make the household a hell of a lot less hostile.

As he made his way towards the kitchen, Gilbert stopped as he heard the conversation between Ludwig and a lower, more gruff voice.

_Vater._

A little emotional prepping might be in order. He took in a deep breath and stepped around the corner to see the two of them sitting at the table, though neither of them gave him even the most fleeting of glances. Like usual.

Gilbert rolled his eyes in agitation and nearly sulked past the two, who were deep in a conversation about college. Why was it that vater never talked to _him_ about college? Gilbert was the oldest, a senior in highschool when Ludwig was only a sophomore.

_Whatever. I should be fuckin' used to this constant bullshit. Just accept that I'm an unwanted piece of shit. It'll make the rest of my life a lot easier on me._

He bit his tongue as he continued to the fridge. He really wasn't hungry, but he had to eat. There was a football game tomorrow night and coach insisted that they keep their weight up.

As Gilbert opened the refrigerator, he self-consciously glanced over his shoulder to see both men looking straight at him. He flinched, feeling his cheeks fill with a sense of heat and anger pool into his chest.

"The hell are you doing in here?" came the older of the two, whose eyes were dark and sinister.

Gilbert flinched and looked away quickly. The utter anger and disappointment in his glare was almost unbearable. It made him feel so awful and hated, by his own damn family, too. "Well, I'm in the kitchen," he muttered rudely, "so I'm obviously here to eat."

"That's not what I was asking," he growled back. "I've told you before not to interrupt Ludwig and I's morning conversations."

Gilbert groaned as he yanked the fridge door shut, stomping over to the cabinet to search for something to eat. "I swear, I didn't even make a single noise," he grumbled under his breath.

"You shouldn't have even entered the room." The accent of Vater was far stronger than either of the three boys, making everything he said much more frightening and intimidating.

Anger kept building up in the young man, making his hand clamp tightly on the box of pop-tarts he'd half-taken from the cabinet. He didn't ask for this awful mistreatment that he received daily. "I swear," he hissed through bared teeth. "I can't even breathe in this fucking house with yelled at by someone who thinks they're the damn prison warden."

Vater's eyes narrowed, almost staring through his least favorite son. "Get to school, Gilbert," he snarled. "I'll be taking Ludwig today."

Gilbert huffed, walking towards the hall with the entire box of pop-tarts still in his grip. "Whatever gets me out of this communist hell-hole," he grumbled childishly. "Because everything's about those two and if I died, odds are this family wouldn't even notice."

"Don't be stupid, Gilbert," Ludwig said, bringing hope into the albino's pale red eyes. "I wouldn't have a ride to school if you died."

Gilbert froze, feeling something inside of him snap. He shook his head slowly before stomping out of the room, hopefully preventing him saying something that he'd regret. "You're fucking dead to me!" he yelled, storming into his room and slamming the door shut behind him so hard, that it made his ears ring.

He paced quickly back and forth across his room, breathing rapidly as he desperately tried to calm himself down. His eyes darted around the room, anxious for something to pick up and destroy, and in the process, ending his rage. He wish he had better control of his anger, but the only thing that seemed to soothe him was external aggression.

_C'mon, Gil. Breaking shit won't help your problem. Just fuckin' knock it off and stop letting them get to you. You're better than that._

Like that was possible. Gilbert had always had this relationship with his father, but what he didn't like to admit was that it was Vater's pride that he craved most in the world. It was a far-off dream of his to do _something_ to get on his father's radar. Quite honestly, it's the reason why he joined the football team in the first place. He just wanted to make Vater proud. He didn't even know why he thought like this. Vater didn't deserve his time of day, but yet, he could help but try and do all in his power to get his attention.

But, he only scoffed at his thoughts.

_I really have to start setting more realistic goals._

A quiet knock on Gilbert's door yanked him from his trance with a jolt. He sighed and walked over, already knowing who it was. There was only one member of this family with the common courtesy to knock. With a faint squeak of the door hinges, he opened it to see little Alexander standing shyly in the hall. Gilbert sighed, allowing him in with a subtle nod, who quickly stepped inside. Alexander turned, looking up at Gilbert with serious eyes before suddenly hugging his waist.

"I'd miss you if you died," came his soft whisper from below.

Gilbert flinched, completely taken off guard by the younger's kindness. He slowly brought his arms up and around Alex, fighting tears. "Aw, c'mon, Alex," he mumbled, his face bright red. "Don't be such a girl."

"Being nice to my depressed brother shouldn't be labeling myself as girly," Alex muttered shyly. "I'm just trying to help you get through another day."

He couldn't take this anymore. How was Alex even related to this family?

"Shut up," Gilbert breathed quietly, fighting tears and practically losing. "You're starting to sound like Mutter."

Alexander laughed quietly to himself, releasing his older brother's rare embrace. "Well, thanks, Gil," he chirped happily. "She was a great person."

Gilbert sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "Ja, you've got that right." His eyes drifted over to the clock on his bedside table."

_7:25_

"We should probably get going soon," Alex decided. "I'll go wait in the car for you, alright?"

"Sounds good," Gilbert agreed with a smile, beckoning him out of his room with a nod of his head. "I'll be out in five minutes, m'kay, Atze?"

Alexander nodded and began out Gilbert's door. "No problem, Gil," he chirped.

Once the footsteps were gone, Gilbert sighed, making his way over to his dresser and beginning to pick through his clothes. The fucking kid. How was it that he was always so nice, no matter how hostile and angry the rest of the family was? He was gentle and fragile and easily offended. Odds are, if Alex got in a fight, he'd be a goner. How he made it through this family for so many years is a mystery.

Gilbert picked up a red shirt that at least _looked_ clean and put it on, deciding that the shorts he accidentally fell asleep in were probably fine to wear another day. He ran a hand through his hair, not daring to look in the mirror. He didn't need another dose of anger this morning. It's already been emotionally draining. He looked around and grabbed the box of pop-tarts he left on his bed and sighed. Why the fuck did he grab the entire box? I guess it doesn't matter. Pop-tarts are pretty fuckin' awesome. He gratefully grabbed the box and threw it in his backpack.

_Al's gonna love me for bringing pop-tarts._

Gilbert took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to smile.

_I'm not gonna let my shitty family ruin my day. There's a football game tomorrow night and a party after that, so there's no reason to be sad._

Slowly, the smile became more and more genuine.

_Yeah... Yeah, everything's gonna be awesome. Just give it time._


End file.
